


For A Second Of Fulfillment

by QuillMind



Category: Drifters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Angst, Denial of Feelings, F/M, Other, Reader-Insert, Sexual Content, Tragic Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-12
Updated: 2017-01-12
Packaged: 2018-09-17 00:48:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9296894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuillMind/pseuds/QuillMind
Summary: The Ends possessed supernatural powers and resilience that far exceeded that of the Drifters'.  There was one weakness, however: once an End felt at peace with themselves, they would turn into salt.  As you and Hijikata would discover, this was a serious obstacle for falling in love.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Was listening to [Skunk Anansie's "Secretly"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HhXBf-yYV0U) an awful lot when thinking about the story for this.

By the time you had died, you were jaded enough that you had thought nothing else could surprise you.  But meeting historical figures such as Rasputin, Jeanne d'Arc, Gilles de Rais and Anastasia Romanova all in the same room had hardly been a realistic consideration at the time. 

It wasn't exactly a friendly reception, not that you expected one.  But a bitter kinship was already formed between you all for knowing the same pain.  You were called the Ends, or, alternatively, the Offscourings.  Scraps.  Waste.  Trash.  Appropriate. 

As the Black King had explained to you upon your arrival, you were, in effect, dead.  On Earth, your final day was already determined, right down to the exact second.  It was impossible for you to return there, because it was a place in which you no longer existed. 

_"What brought you specifically here, what makes you an End, is your vengeful resentment, that acidic rage.  You died abjectly dissatisfied, and that is how you live here."_

He never told you his name, never showed you his face, but it was not hard to figure out who he was.  The dragonfly staff, the scars on his hand, the mention of his intent to save humanity that was harshly rebuffed...  You had never been a devout person, never saw the point of faith, but in this man's presence, hearing his voice--it was impossible to not be moved.  So it had felt like the most natural thing in the world for you to reach for his free hand and kiss it, as gently as you would a baby. 

_"I welcome you now.  Walk with us to eradicate all of humankind."_

The Black King, being so closely acquainted with rejection, did not recoil as he knew that would sting for you.  Rather, he seemed to expect your reaction, and turned his hand so that he cupped your cheek in a way that cut through to the core of your soul.  If you were both still human, it might have felt like something between father and child--not that you had much reference for that.  Nevertheless, you were comforted by being with the Black King. 

It was not so much the case with Hijikata, however. 

Wolf of Mibu.  Ogre Vice-Commander.  Toshizo Yoshitoyo Hijikata of the Shinsengumi had these nicknames for a reason.  Harsh, strict and uncompromising, he had been seen by many as an unapproachable and intimidating man who eschewed warmth and affection. 

You knew different.  As did the others that had been pulled from their era and land to this strange new world; despite your differing origins, you were all familiar with betrayal, disdain, being seen as inconveniences at best and horribly offending scourges at worst, even though all you had been guilty of was being true to yourself, of existing. 

Hijikata was indeed a stern individual, but you had learned through books that this belied an iron sense of loyalty and responsibility to the things and people he treasured.  He may have been born into a wealthy family, but it was still not a samurai family.  Wanting to be something that could only be passed on through blood that didn't flow in you was a fool's errand, but still Hijikata hadn't abandoned the wish to become a proud warrior.  His parents and older sister were torn away by illness.  He survived to adulthood, but he would never be able to know them. 

Those who have been hurt have the greatest potential to become kind people.  Hijikata was such a man, but buried that heart deep to be the stalwart soldier that could not be swayed by emotions.  Because someone needed to be. 

In retrospect, it was not so hard to see why you had been drawn to him. 

****

The castle at the Northern Wall had more than enough rooms for you to choose from.  But there were several occasions lately where one of you was in the other's room; sometimes briefly, sometimes for almost a day. 

Candlelight flickered in the highly disturbed air of the room.  It made every shadow dance and shake with it, distorting your vision. 

"Hiji...  Hijikata..."  Your own voice wavered just like the flames.

The floor and walls were stone, cold and hard, but at the moment you burned with flesh moving against you.  Your clothes were still mostly on, but no longer served their purpose, opened to reveal your body.  He was the same, with his trademark inky black jacket and pants peeled away so that you could touch him. 

The first time this happened, it was rough and fast, even painful.  He had taken you from behind and pulled at your hair while hammering into you like he needed to destroy something.  The thing was, you had been the one who had approached him in the first place, walking up to hungrily kiss him without a word while sliding your hand done to his groin. 

It was much easier to do outrageous things once you were dead. 

Your back stretched and arched as your muscles searched for a way to evenly distribute the frenzy building within you.  But every thrust of his hips brought all focus back to where the two of you were joined, and you would gasp and moan again without fail. 

"Look at me." 

The deep baritone of his voice called your name, and you had to obey.  Hijikata, intense as always, was staring into your eyes.  He was so close to you that his black hair curtained the sides of your faces nicely, sealing you off together in your own world. 

Swallowing, you brought your legs up and curled them around his upper torso, pulling him in deeper.  You closed your eyes right as you heard him hiss, felt the mattress dip where his fist was squeezing tightly. 

An irritated growl followed, and he caught your lower lip between his teeth to suck on it.  This time you were the one that faltered, and he took that as his cue to drive in and out of you again at this new, 'eye-rolling to the back of your head' angle. 

This was dangerous.  What you two were doing, it was dangerous--and not for the reason one might assume. 

_"The Drifters who oppose us remain mere mortals while we have great powers," the Black King had stated.  "Purely from a strategic standpoint, we are the superior ones."_

The headboard of the bed clacked against the wall, only encouraging Hijikata to go faster. 

_"But we have one key weakness."_

Saliva drew a line down your chin as you continued to kiss and suck each other, your tongues fighting for dominance.  You bit down on the velvety wetness, which earned you a grunt--and a forceful groping of your chest with his ungloved hand. 

_"The moment we become fulfilled, when we feel satisfied where we are and abandon our grievances, we will turn to salt."_

Your fingers snaked under his jacket and shirt to reach his back, which you unceremoniously raked with your nails.  He grimaced, but his body told another story as it swelled inside of you. 

****

_"Who are you."_

_Hijikata had asked the question as more of a command--he hadn't wanted his interest to show.  But of course, just asking that was already proof enough._

_"You already know my name," you had answered._

_"Just your first name."_

_"My full name won't tell you much more about me."_

_He had studied you for a moment, silently agreeing with your statement but simultaneously reluctant.  "You know me?"_

_A sardonic smirk, and you leaned against the wall.  "I know_ of _you."_  

****

He hit just the right spot within you, bypassing your ego and causing you to cry out high and clear, honestly displaying the effect he had on you.  That needly feeling was at your nose and tears threatened to emerge, welling in your eyes and making them glimmer like swirling pools. 

****

_"Gilles de Rais has fallen," the Black King had said with completely neutrality._

_"Jeanne d'Arc?" you asked._

_"Alive, though heavily injured.  It will be a while before she can fight again."_

_"Do you know the last moments of his life?"_

_"As if they were my own.  He was glad to see that_ La Pucelle _still drew breath, and was filled with peaceful satisfaction of his state."_  

_"Hmm," was all you could say.  A lengthy silence, but not an uncomfortable one.  "That's good."_

****

In and out, in and out, back and forth, back and forth.  Hijitaka stirred up your insides, physically as well as emotionally, despite your best efforts. 

There was so much you wanted to know about him.  There was so much he wanted to know about you.  You had crossed the line of being just a good fuck quite some time ago. 

_"In the typical flow of time, we would have never met each other," Hijikata had said to Rasputin once.  "We were never to have known of each other as we do now."_

_"But here you are," Rasputin leered, seeing far better what neither of you did._  

This delectable rhythm that you didn't think you were capable of feeling anymore--it came in spades when you were with this man. 

"Oh...  Oh..." 

Intelligible words failed both of you.  All you had were your voices and faces, exalted and mournful. 

You knew his reputation as the history books wrote it.  You could have learned his mind directly, but you did not, just as he refrained from asking more of your world, your pain, your self. 

The delicate hollow of your throat, he plundered.  The intricate curves of his ear, you traced and caressed with your lips. 

You wanted to cry, to let your eyes flood and sobs overflow, so, so goddamn much.  As if fate hadn't shit on you both enough already, you now found yourself attached to a dead man, someone who could understand and accept you, and to admit your feelings would signal your demise. 

He never existed when you had.  He could not have conceived of a person or era such as what you consisted of. 

"Hijikata, I--"

"Don't." 

So full and wet and hot.  You wanted to feel it forever. 

****

_At some point Hijikata had given up on hiding his curiosity.  "Where did that one come from?"_

_"A time far ahead any of ours."_  

_He was grateful for once that he could not see the Black King's face.  "...Who betrayed her?"_

_"Many people--the same as you.  And none that are within your reach, for the record."_

****

Each time you did this, the risks grew.  You both invested more into observing each other's behaviours, into saturating yourselves in the other's joys and sorrows. 

Hijikata had bedded many others before you.  There was a time when it had even been a point of pride for him that he had been so sought after by many admirers.  But they were as substantial as smoke.  _You_ were branded into his thoughts.  He wanted to have the abilities of that strange girl, Easy, so that he could travel to your era and slaughter everyone who had ever hurt you.

_No._

You yearned to learn each other, truly, intimately.  To see more of each other's faces that no one else would ever see. 

_No._

You wanted to make each other happy.  Maybe even more than you wanted your vengeance--

_NO_

It was when such thoughts occurred that you felt some parts of your body oddly stiffen, crystallizing. 

"Aaaahh--!" 

You were close.  So was he.  The masks were being shed, your true desires coming to the fore. 

Your name was repeated in your ear like a prayer, like a curse.  "You're driving me insane..."

With every encounter, he saw more of you, and none of it was unpleasant to him. 

But you had to create distance.  This gulf between you needed to be preserved if either of you wanted to keep each other's company. 

"I'm going to come," you huffed, the cool air making your throat raw.    

Hijikata nodded and went faster.  "Inside," he rasped. 

You were no longer human, so creating offspring was out of your reach. 

"It's hot...  So hot..." 

You were no longer human,  existing to destroy all other humans. 

All of you went uncomfortably tense.  Your back arched into his torso, your brow creased so tight that it hurt; then the sensation slingshot in the other direction to shattering, power-negating bliss.  A tear pooled at the corner of your eye, and Hijikata impulsively leaned in to lick it away.  It tasted so salty, it was downright bitter. 

You were no longer human, therefore something as human as a love realized was not for you. 

The last several thrusts were as bruisingly harsh as punches, but you still found yourself sighing softly as Hijikata shuddered above and spilled into you. 

****

When it was over, it was always the same.  Loaded glances and regretful turns away from each other, mouths opening to almost say something only to be bit shut.  Clothes came back on and hair was rearranged; it was never done in a hurry, yet somehow happened all too quickly. 

"I'll be heading to Verlina," Hijikata said.  He was standing near a small table, securing the sash that held his swords at his hip.  "Our spies have informed us that the Drifters are moving towards there.  No doubt they intend to take over the capital of Orte and claim it for themselves." 

"You will be leading the attack," you said with realization, still sitting on the bed.  The warmth was fading fast from where the two of you had been. 

"Yes.  ...Has the Black King spoken to you?"

"I'm to stay here and assist him on furthering the shared culture of the non-human races." 

He turned, and you locked gazes.  There was so much being silently spoken there and then: resentment, doubt, fear, despondence--and beneath it all, a sad, deep-seated yearning.  This plastic charade of cold professionalism grated on you like sandpaper; but it was as good as you were going to get. 

Two strides was all he needed to cross the room.  It looked like he was going to grab your face for a kiss, and he did bend down and stretch out his hand in a manner to hold your chin...  But he stopped just short of touching, and paused there. 

You held your breath, and though your heart was beating fast again, you knew he wasn't going to touch you.  It made you ache--which was Hijikata's intention. 

If you dish it out, you've got to take it back.  "If I'd never met you," you began, "I would have been fine with being here."  There was vitriol in your voice and the glare that was aimed at him, but it required a lot of strength from your body to summon. 

Hijikata was very still, with only his fingers moving an infinitesimal amount like an old animatronic that was breaking down.  Eventually they curled into a fist. 

"I'll be going now." 

He left without waiting for a response, and closed the door firmly before walking down the corridor.  This was not some sorrowful farewell.  He had every intention of killing the Drifters--particularly the one that was said to be from the Shimazu clan--and returning here to see you.  Likewise, you would cooperate fully with the Black King to assist the non-humans and guide then towards succeeding the world. 

And once all other humans were gone, and the new civilization reigned, then perhaps you two could finally drop your weapons and fill those hands with each other instead, and give each other everything that you had been keeping contained besides just physical pleasure. 

You would only have mere moments to cherish it before turning into salt, but a second of fulfillment was better than two lifetimes of dissatisfaction. 

Hijikata quickened his steps.

**Author's Note:**

> Oh, the angst, it follows Hijikata so easily. 
> 
> After watching ep 12, I did know that I wanted to write a story with him, but I wasn't sure what the angle would be. Then I was also thinking about the significance of Gilles de Rais turning into salt, and the various cultural connotations the stuff has, and thought that to feel true satisfaction/fulfillment might be an interesting catalyst for their demise. 
> 
> Hopefully this didn't read too confusingly with all the jumping around from past to present and such.


End file.
